Happy Beginnings
by LemonSupreme
Summary: Set in 2x13: They need those killers, and Bass knows that Duncan is his best bet at getting them. Bass wants to deal with the war lord on his own, but begins to have second thoughts about sending Charlie off into the night with Connor... A little Charloe for KimberlyHavey's & thedarkestdaisy's birthdays.
1. Chapter 1

**Part 1: Duncan Page's Tent – New Vegas**

Charlie has her gun trained on the smirking brunette who clearly knows Monroe very well. So this is Duncan. Charlie hates her on sight. She doesn't dwell on why. The why is unimportant.

Bass holds out a hand, "Charlie put the gun down, now."

Charlie ignores him, her eyes on Duncan.

Bass's voice becomes louder, more fierce, "NOW!" He looks at Charlie for a moment, silently imploring her to behave. Satisfied that she's gotten the message, he turns his attention back to the war lord.

Charlie slowly lowers her gun, her eyes moving from Bass to Duncan and back again. Ah, so that's how this is. Son of a bitch. Charlie's blood boils.

Bass watches Duncan, his expression hopeful, like a puppy dog waiting for a treat.

"I'm going to be sick." Charlie mutters, shoving her gun into her belt. She turns, catching Junior's eye and motioning for him to follow. Clearly Bass wants some alone time with his old girlfriend.

Charlie stomps away from the tent, Connor on her heels. "I can't fucking believe this." She fumes.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks her.

"Nothing…. Everything… He shouldn't have been like that. I could have helped him."

"Yeah, I don't think so." Connor says, shaking his head with a little smile.

"What the hell is so funny?" Charlie whirls on him, poking a finger into his chest.

"You are. First of all, I don't think he wanted any help. Secondly, if you were any more jealous, your skin would actually turn green."

"I'm not jealous."

"Or truthful, it seems." He mutters. "Whatever, I'm gonna go find a girl who isn't panting after my old man, no offence."

And then he's gone, and Charlie is even angrier than before – at herself for letting Bass get to her, and at Connor for being right. "God damnit." She growls.

* * *

"You're out of your mind. Ten a head." Bass counters Duncan's offer of thirty diamonds per mercenary. There is no way they can come up with thirty a head – they just can't. If they want to take enough guys back to Willoughby to make a difference against the Patriots, he needs the price to be a lot lower.

Duncan's gaze is steely, "Thirty diamonds a head."

"Come on, cut me a break here. Twenty?" He pauses, but when she stays quiet, he says "Twenty-five?"

She shakes her head ever so slightly, not willing to budge. "Thirty." Her tone says this argument is over.

"Well…" he hesitates. The honest truth is he's struggling to focus on this negotiation. His mind keeps wandering somewhere else entirely. He can't stop replaying Charlie's exit in his head. She's looked angry and also…

"So, thirty then?" Duncan asks, tilting her head sideways, a smirk plays across her lips. "Jesus Sebastian, you aren't even paying attention. You know how much I hate that." She shakes her head at him.

Bass runs his fingers through his hair, clearly torn. "Thirty…" he mutters, still not really in the conversation. Charlie hadn't just been mad. There had also been something else, something…

"You must really like that one. Got your panties all in a twist." Duncan is trying not to laugh, but it's difficult. "The mighty Sebastian Monroe has fallen for a little girl. How adorable."

"She's not a little girl."

Duncan tosses her head back and cackles, "I knew it. You've got it bad."

Bass is shaking his head no, but on the inside he is still seeing Charlie's face and he suddenly knows what it was he'd seen in her expression. Hurt. Hurt and maybe…. Jealousy?

"Awfully brave of you to let her go like that." Duncan says, still grinning.

"Charlie is tough. She can take care of herself."

"Yeah, I'm sure she can…but right now she's pissed, and at least a little jealous. She might want to work out some frustration and that young guy who couldn't keep his eyes off her? Well, he might want to help her do that…" Duncan shrugs, "But like you say, she can handle herself. You don't like her that way anyway…"

Bass is standing, his mind now filled with all the flirty comments Connor has been throwing Charlie's way for the duration of this whole damn trip. Charlie wouldn't go there, would she? Surely not. Bass is halfway out the tent's opening when Duncan gets his attention. "So the killers? You want em or not?"

"I'll be back, okay? I have to deal with this right now."

Duncan nods knowingly, "You know where I'll be."

* * *

Charlie is sitting in a dim bar, sucking back a drink while the crowd surges around her like a living thing. She's beyond pissed at Bass for not warning her about Duncan, and at Connor for being an ass, and at herself for letting any of it get to her. "This is bullshit." She mutters, not for the first time. Without looking up, she taps her empty glass on the bar. The bartender takes the hint and refills the glass.

She feels a presence and then a warm hand settles on her shoulder. "Get lost. Already told you I'm not interested."

"No, you actually never have told me that." Bass's voice is smooth and silky as he leans in close. He settles onto the booth beside hers and nods to the bartender with an 'I'll have what she's having' motion of his head. Charlie had stiffened when she realized it was him, but now she's consciously calming herself down. She does not want him to know that his appearance means anything to her.

"That was quick." She says, staring into her drink. "Only left you ten minutes ago. Your ladies' man reputation must be a bit exaggerated."

"Funny." Bass chuckles, "That is not what was happening back there. There's nothing like that between Duncan and me."

"Not anymore?" she asks, still not meeting his eyes. "Clearly there was something at one time."

He sighs, "A long time ago. A really long time ago."

"Whatever." She shakes her head, "Did you get the killers?"

"Not yet. Gotta go back and negotiate."

Charlie snorts, "Of course you do."

"Jesus, Charlie. It's not like that. I am not interested in anything she has to offer other than mercenaries."

Charlie doesn't answer, staring at the whiskey as she swirls it in her glass.

"I'm sorry I shut you out back there. I should have let you stay. You've more than proven yourself? It was habit. I've been working on my own for a long time." He reaches out and places his hand on hers, stilling her. "I'm sorry. Okay?"

She feels a jolt of heat where their fingers touch. Charlie takes a shaky breath. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me." He squeezes her fingers gently. "You matter to me, Charlie."

"Yeah, right."

A drunk staggers into Charlie and Bass can see they're never going to have a decent conversation here. "Come on. Let's get out of this hell hole."

She doesn't argue. They finish off what's left of their drinks and Bass leads her out of the bar tent. "Where's Connor anyway?" he asks.

Charlie shrugs, "Think he went to find some female entertainment."

"Figured he was hoping for a chance to get to know you better, rather than hook up with some stranger."

Charlie finally looks him in the eye, "Connor knows that would be a waste of his time."

"Oh?" Bass feels his heart begin to race, "Why's that?" She pushes past him, walking briskly. He is at her side again in moments. "Why Charlie? He's your age. He's interested. He's good looking like his old man." Bass is going for flippant, but his voice has an edge.

Charlie is walking fast, her head down. She mumbles something but Bass doesn't catch it. "What?"

She stops and turns without warning. He stumbles into her, catching himself by grasping her upper arms. Her eyes bore into his. They are standing close – far too close.

"What did you say?" he asks again, his voice softer now.

"He's not the one I want." She whispers.

Bass's fingers tighten on her arms, "Who do you want, Charlie?"

She shakes her head, answering his question with one of her own, "Why didn't you correct Duncan back there?"

"What? Correct her how?" He's having a hard time focusing. Her lips are so perfect and kissable and right damn there.

"She implied that we were together. You didn't correct her..."

"Neither did you." He moves closer. He can't stop staring at her mouth. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips nervously and he groans. "Neither did you." He says again. "Why didn't you correct her yourself?"

"I guess…" she pauses, unsure. "I guess I didn't mind."

"You didn't mind what? That she thinks we're together?" Pretence gone, Bass yanks her body flush with his. "Didn't mind that she thinks we're fucking? Maybe even more than fucking…" his lips brush the shell of Charlie's ear and he feels her shudder. More confident than ever that he's not alone in this attraction that is overwhelming him; he bites down lightly on her ear lobe. "Didn't mind that she thinks you're mine?"

"Yours." Charlie says. It's not a question as her hands snake around his back, welcoming his close proximity.

When his mouth crashes into hers for the first time, it is in the midst of a dirty New Vegas street. Hookers and drunks and gamblers weave around them as if they are just part of the scenery. Neither Bass nor Charlie even notice. This kiss is intensity and passion - pent up feelings of need and unrequited desire roar through their every movement. His tongue slides through her lips and he possesses her mouth heatedly, exploring her depths, and memorizing her taste. Charlie buries her hands in his curls, pulling him closer, relishing his hard body against her softer curves and the way his kiss sets her on fire.

They break apart, breathless.

"We should…"

"The killers…"

"Yeah, we need to…"

"Duncan."

"Talk to her together."

"And then later?"

"Yes. Later." It's a promise, and in the heated gaze they share, both Charlie and Bass recognize it's a promise they'll be keeping. But for now, they need those mercenaries.

"Later." He says again, grabbing her hand and dragging her back toward Duncan's tent.

* * *

Duncan looks up, not entirely surprised to see either one of them returning, "Sebastian, back so soon? And you brought your little girlfriend…how adorable." she smirks.

Bass smiles at Charlie and takes her hand in his, pulling her close, "I didn't introduce you properly before. Charlie this is my friend Duncan. Duncan… this is Charlie."

Duncan sees their entwined hands, and nods in understanding. Clearly this girl means much more to Monroe than she'd assumed. Interesting.

Charlie smiles, flashing a dimple. "Nice to meet you Duncan. Sorry about before, but we really need some killers. Any chance you can help us with that?"

The war lord sighs, and surprises even herself when she says, "You know what, I'm feeling suddenly generous. How about fifteen a head?"

* * *

**A/N Hope it worked for you KimberlyHavey. Happy birthday!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2: A smutty conclusion to what was supposed to be a one-shot…because evidently I am unable to say no when people ask for mature content. **

**Please note the rating change and proceed only if you like that sort of thing… **

**Also, I see that today is thedarkestdaisy's birthday as well, so this chapter, my dear, is for you. Enjoy.**

* * *

Charlie's smile widens and she glances at Bass. "Fifteen diamonds a head… We can afford that, right?"

Bass's earlier smile has faded. He looks skeptical but nods slowly. "What's the catch?"

Duncan feigns disappointment, "A catch? Whatever could you mean?"

He frowns, trying to figure her out. "Just a little while ago, you said you couldn't go less than 30. Why the sudden price slash?"

"Well, maybe there is one tiny catch." Duncan grins. Charlie sighs heavily. She's back to not liking this woman at all.

"What is it?" He asks Duncan.

"I need you to fight, and win. Tonight." She looks him up and down, appraising his physique. "You can still do that, right?"

"Who do you need me to fight?" Bass asks. His expression is guarded.

"The Mick is back in town. He's been cleaning house for Gould. Your arrival is very timely, Sebastian. I am finding myself in a bit of a pinch financially. If I could bet against him and win big…"

Bass's eye brows have shot high, "The Mick is back? Thought he was dead?"

"Rumors were greatly exaggerated, it would seem. He's very much alive and well."

"Who's the Mick?" Charlie wants to know.

"The only guy who Bass lost to when he was here before." Duncan answers.

"I didn't just lose." Bass mutters. "That giant Irish fuck almost killed me."

"Bass is not going to put his life in danger. No deal." Charlie says, her mouth set in a firm line.

Bass doesn't say anything. He's weighing his options. Duncan looks from Bass to Charlie and back again, "Damn, you really are whipped if you're letting Lil Miss tell you what you can and cannot do."

Charlie tenses, ready to pounce. Bass puts a hand on her shoulder, "Calm." He says quietly, before turning his attention to Duncan. "I'm not whipped, but Charlie has a point. You're going to need to sweeten the pot quite a bit before I'll take that kind of risk. I need more than your offered bargain on mercenaries."

Duncan leans back against her chair, watching them thoughtfully. "Fine. How about this? 10% of my take and five killers at fifteen diamonds a head?"

Charlie steps forward to counter, "20% and ten killers at fifteen a head."

Duncan turns to Bass. "I can see why you like her. She's spunky." She turns then to Charlie, "15%, eight of my men at fifteen a head, and a place to stay tonight – a place with a bath and a bed."

Charlie opens her mouth to speak, but Bass steps in. "Deal." He says firmly. "I'll fight and win. In exchange, you'll give us a 15% cut of your take, eight of your men at 15 diamonds a head and a place we can stay tonight."

Duncan stands and holds out a hand to Bass. Their eyes lock and he grasps her fingers in a firm shake. "When and where?" he asks.

"Midnight. Gould's tent. Don't be late."

* * *

As they exit the tent, Charlie can see the tension in Bass's expression. "You can do it? You can win against this guy?"

"I think so, yeah. When I faced him before, I was in a bad place mentally and physically. I was wasted and had been fighting for days with very little rest. Now, it sounds like the roles are reversed. If he's bringing in lots of coin for Gould, he's the one who's probably been fighting for days. I'm fresh." He puts his arm around her shoulders as they walk along. "And I have some extra incentive I didn't have last time."

"Oh, what's that?" she asks with a small smile.

"Well, I have your promise of 'later'." He leans in and kisses her temple. "And."

"And what?"

"And we'll have a room with a bath and a bed in which we can keep that promise to each other."

Charlie laughs, beginning to feel hopeful. "Yeah, we do have that."

"We'll have one other thing too."

"What's that?"

"We're not just leaving with 15% of Duncan's take."

"How so?"

"We need to find Connor. He has our diamonds. We're gonna bet it all."

"Bet it all?"

"Yep. Why settle for 15% when we can win even more?"

Charlie stops short, "But Bass, what if you lose?"

"If I lose to The Mick, the least of our worries will be money. You and Connor will be riding off into the sunset while my sorry corpse rots here in New Vegas."

"Bass." Charlie is frowning, fear showing in her eyes.

"But, if I win…" he forges on, "We get the killers, Duncan's cut and our own cut, plus there will be a purse for the winner outright. And there's that room…" he reminds her with a wink. Clearly he's trying to get her mind off the risks involved.

"So you have to win, and not just because of the money and the killers."

"Why else do YOU want me to win Charlie?" His hands move to her lower back. He strokes lazy circles under her jacket.

"Because when I ride off into the sunset, it isn't going to be with Connor."

Their eyes meet and a lot is said without words. Finally, the spell is broken and they begin to walk again. "Gotta find him now and get everything ready for tonight." Bass says, an edge of eagerness in his voice.

* * *

When midnight rolls around, Charlie and Connor are standing near the ring in Gould's main fight tent. Duncan Page is on the opposite side, surrounded by some of her men. The crowd is buzzing with excitement. Word has spread. Jimmy King is going to face The Mick one more time.

"So you bet all of it, right?" Charlie asks Connor, her voice low.

He nods, "Yep. All of it, for King to win."

Just then there is a flurry of activity along one side of the tent. The Mick enters with a flourish and the crowd goes wild. He is monstrously huge. Wearing only a ratty pair of ancient sweat pants and a fiendish grin, the giant is covered in dirt and grime from head to foot. Amateur stitches are holding a long gash shut along a swollen cheek. Dried sweat and blood have matted down one side of his scalp. His bright red hair sticks out haphazardly on the other side. His eyes are a wild green as he searches for his opponent.

He doesn't have to search long. Bass appears with no fanfare at all. He looks tired and dirty himself. Charlie knows this is all for show, but seeing the two of them together makes her heart pound with worry. Bass looks downright tiny next to the Irishman. Connor senses her fear and grabs her hand, squeezing her fingers comfortingly. "Gonna be okay. I promise." He mutters. "Remember the story of David and Goliath? Size isn't everything."

Charlie can't help but chuckle nervously, "That's what you all say."

Connor rolls his eyes. "Whatever. He's got this in the bag. I promise."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because I asked around about Jimmy King and he is one hell of a fighter. The Mick is really good too, and if all things were equal , my old man might not have a chance."

"But things aren't equal?" she asks.

"Nope. The Mick is exhausted and beat to hell. He has at least two broken ribs and the rumor is that he's nursing one hell of a concussion….and then there's the other thing."

"What other thing?" Charlie looks at Connor curiously. She has no idea what he's talking about.

"I might have stacked the deck in our favor just a bit." Connor smirks at her and winks.

"Oh? How did you do that?"

"While you giving my Dad his little pre-fight pep talk, I slipped in The Mick's trailer and replaced his whiskey with a new bottle."

"And?"

"And maybe it was laced with peyote. It's a little trick I learned in Mexico. He'll be fine till it hits, and then he's going to start seeing things that aren't there. "Connor is laughing and Charlie punches him solidly in the arm.

"What if you get caught?"

"How the hell am I going to get caught? Drug testing is ancient history. Nobody will suspect a thing."

And Connor is right. Nobody does suspect a thing.

The fight starts as fights typically do. There is a lot of bobbing and weaving as the opponents size each other up. Bass kicks things off with the first big blow, catching the bigger man in the side. The Mick staggers, rubbing his ribcage with one meaty paw. He recovers and punches Bass, hitting his shoulder instead of his face when Bass moves quickly. Bass counters with a quick right – left – right combination and this seems to wake the giant up. He charges Monroe and punches him twice in the face. Bass falls to the ground, his face bloody. He bounces back quickly though, and hits The Mick hard in the solar plexus. The bigger man hits Bass in the chest and gut twice before Bass gets another hit in – this one a left hook to The Mick's chin.

The big Irishman sways for a moment, staring down at Monroe with an odd look on his face. He swings but it is too wide and Bass neatly steps aside, landing a heavy blow to the bigger man's broken ribs once again. Beads of sweat are now visible all over the giant's face and chest. Something is wrong. He is breathing heavily and his eyes are moving back and forth strangely.

Charlie hears someone say, "Oh shit. I think The Mick is done."

He isn't done yet, but from then on the writing is on the wall. Bass dodges all of his opponent's punches, but lands several of his own. In the end, it is a solid right to the jaw that sends The Mick into a tailspin. He lands with a deafening thump in the dirt at Gould's feet. "Mama?" The Mick asks thickly before his eyes roll back in his head.

And just like that, it's over.

Charlie makes a beeline for Bass, pulling him into a tight embrace. She loosens her hold only when she feels his sharp intake of breath. "Are you okay?"

"Broken rib." He wheezes. "Easy with the hugging."

Gould walks up, his face scrunched up in distaste. "Double or nothing?"

"No way in hell." Bass answers, wiping blood from his brow. "I want my money."

"Figured as much." Gould grumbles, thrusting a brown cloth bag into Monroe's hand before walking away.

Duncan comes up then, a big smile on her face. "Here you go." She also holds out a small bag, "Your 15%."

Bass takes this bag and tucks it into the first, "Thanks Duncan. Our killers?"

"They'll be ready at first light tomorrow. Meet them by the 'Welcome to New Vegas' sign."

"And the other thing?" Charlie asks, her hand possessively on Bass's sweaty back.

Duncan grins, "Impatient little minx, aren't you?" She glances over at Bass and licks her lips, "Can't say I blame you, Sweetie. Here you go." She thrusts an old key into Charlie's hand. "It's the green trailer behind my tent. There's a tub back behind it in the little fenced in area. It's already full of hot water. There's soap and towels, antiseptic and bandages. Clean sheets on the bed… Everything you need." Duncan pats Charlie on the shoulder, "Have fun." Then she waves to them both before turning to be swallowed by the crowd.

Connor appears with yet another brown bag. "You were quite the investment tonight. We cleaned up." He holds the bag out to his Dad. Bass shakes his head. "You hang onto that one. Spend a little on yourself tonight. Find a girl or whatever. We'll see you at the welcome sign at first light."

Connor glances between the two and grins knowingly, "All right then. First light."

* * *

They get to the trailer and Charlie unlocks the door so that they can go inside. Bass finds a place to sit at the tiny dinette table. A bottle of whiskey and two glasses are waiting. He smiles as he pours for each of them. She takes her drink and wanders around as she sips. He sits back, lounging with legs spread. Bass watches her as she takes in their new surroundings, and he notices with amusement that she won't look at him or the bed.

"Having second thoughts?"

She tilts back her glass and downs the contents before turning to him with a coy smile. "Nope. Just trying to decide if I want to wait for the bath or jump you now."

Bass chuckles as she moves in close to stand between his legs. "Glad to hear you aren't changing your mind." He nuzzles against her belly, wrapping his arms loosely around her thighs, holding her in place.

Charlie twines her fingers through his curls, "Watching you fight…I can't explain it exactly."

"Can't explain what?" he asks, placing light kisses along her flat stomach through the thin fabric of her tank.

"Watching you fight was so hot. I think my ovaries exploded."

He laughs hard, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Standing, he pulls her flush, and places his lips on hers. The kiss is soft and sweet. Charlie is afraid her knees might buckle as he pulls away. "So what did you decide?" he asks, his eyes smoldering. "Wait for a bath or jump me first?"

"Bath." She says firmly, and then she frowns as she traces a gash with her finger. "Need to bandage up a few cuts too. Then, we move on to the jumping…"

"Your wish is my command." He agrees roughly.

They make their way to the back of the trailer. Just as Duncan had promised, there is a big metal tub filled with warm water. It had probably been used to water livestock long ago, but now it makes a wonderful bath tub.

Bass groans a little as he tries to kick off his boots. "Pretty sore." He says, "You might have to help me."

Charlie pouts, "How sore exactly? Am I going to have to forego all that I'd planned tonight? Don't want to hurt you further…" She shrugs out of her jacket and yanks her tank top over her head. The moonlight accentuates every curve and Bass moans as she reaches behind to unclasp her bra.

"Not that sore." He says.

"You know... I'm feeling a little extra naked right now." She says as she kicks off her boots and shimmies out of her jeans. "You need to catch up."

"You're still wearing panties." He points out helpfully, his pupils blown. "Won't be totally naked until – " he stops speaking as she slowly rolls the panties down her legs. "Shit. Now I do need to catch up."

"I suppose I could help you out a little bit." She says, walking toward him. He presses his tongue against his teeth, letting out a deep breath. Charlie is exquisite. He has of course imagined this moment – seeing her luscious body for the first time – on many occasions, but the reality of it takes his breath away.

She reaches him, and runs her hands across his naked chest. She scrapes short nails over his nipples and down to his waistband. "Mmmm" she says, licking her lips.

"Shit." He mutters as his pants become suddenly far tighter than is comfortable. She sees the problem and trails her fingers down to his belt. Deftly, she unbuckles it and then lets down the zipper. Bass sighs with relief as his cock springs free.

"Damn." She says, biting her lip as she strokes his thickness with the palm of her hand.

"What's wrong?" Bass loves the way she touches him, but he can see her apprehension.

"Not sure about this." She says, shaking her head.

"Not sure about what?"

"So big." Charlie mutters, wrapping her fingers around his shaft. "Not sure I can…"

"I am." He says, determined. "I am sure." He pulls her chin up and he's kissing her and their bodies meld together. The heat of skin on skin is intense and they are both struggling for breath when she pulls away.

"Bath." She whispers, leading him to the tub. Charlie helps him out of his boots and pants and then they climb into the water. They take turns with the thick cake of soap. She washes his skin carefully, doing her best to be gentle with his wounds. She scrubs his curls and he purrs as she scratches his scalp. "You like that?" she asks with a chuckle.

"Dear God, you have magic fingers." He says, eyes closed.

He returns the favor, caressing her curves with soapy hands, washing out her long hair. They stop to kiss and touch, but agree without words that they're waiting till they get back inside to do more. This decision is what brings their bath to an end.

They rinse and then dry off with rough towels before going back inside. Bass throws the deadbolt before pulling her into his arms. She moves too quickly and he moans as his broken rib is jarred.

"Let me take care of you." She whispers before pushing him gently down on the bed. He follows her lead, his body so tired and sore that he's happy to let her do the work this time. Next time will be different, but tonight he'll let her call the shots.

He starts to protest when she walks away from the bed, but realizes her intent when she comes back with salve and bandages. Straddling him, she carefully dresses the wounds on his shoulder, cheek and chest. Satisfied that the worst of his injuries are taken care of, Charlie takes the supplies back to the table. She sets them down and picks up the whiskey bottle, bringing it to the bed.

She straddles him again, taking a swig from the bottle before handing it to him. He is propped up on pillows, and drinks deeply before setting the bottle down next to the bed. Charlie leans in, her hair surrounding their heads as she slowly kisses him. Bass runs his hands along her thighs, and over the curve of her ass. He slides his fingers around, feeling for her heat. He moans into her mouth when he feels how wet she is. Bass moves his hands to her chest, stroking and squeezing her breasts, he pushes her upper body backward. She supports herself by putting her hands on his knees. This gives him a better angle to explore her sopping pussy, and explore is exactly what he does.

Charlie is on fire. She can feel his impossibly thick cock against her back as she watches him pumping his fingers in and out of her tight center. She moans as he increases his pace, adding another finger. He's stretching her, readying her, and she loves the way it feels. She loves the way his eyes burn into her with each stroke.

She is so damn tight, but she's loosening up for him, and the feel of her velvety folds flowering open around his fingers is almost too much. He needs her now. "Lift." He says briskly.

She does as he asks, holding still as he moves his cock into position. "Now?" she asks, breathless.

"Now." He answers and she begins to lower her body down. Charlie gasps as the head of his cock pushes through her opening. He's so big she knows they are going to have to take it slow. Even after preparing her passage with his fingers, she still finds her body stretching to accommodate his girth. Inch after blessed inch, she slowly impales herself on his huge dick.

"Jesus." She moans, pulling up and almost off before swiftly going back down. "Not gonna be able to take it all."

"Yes you are." He says through gritted teeth. It's taking every ounce of his self-control not to grab her and yank her down all the way. She repeats the earlier move, pulling off almost completely before sinking back down. With each downward stroke, she's taking more of him and soon she's almost there. He can't take it anymore, grasping her hips he lifts his own hard and fast.

Charlie cries out as he slams into her cervix, bottoming out. He feels her walls fluttering around his cock and he grips her even tighter. His fingertips dig into the flesh of her hips as he uses his brute strength to lift her up and pull her down repeatedly. Charlie is almost boneless as she comes around him. As her orgasm begins to fade, she takes up where he'd left off, sliding her slippery pussy up and down Bass's cock. His side aches but he barely registers the pain, because the feel of her tight sheath has him on sensory overload.

"Almost there." He groans.

Charlie pulls off of him and moves down, taking his cock in her hand and wrapping her lips around the head. She begins to suck and stroke and he can't take anymore. With a hiss, he thrusts into her hot mouth, shooting his release down her throat. She sucks him dry, swallowing every drop before releasing his dick with a pop.

Charlie collapses next to him, spent. Neither speaks for a long time. Finally, she crawls up his body, snuggling against his uninjured side.

"We're going to be doing a lot more of that." He says softly against her ear.

"Mmmm yes. I love that idea." She says, yawning. He wraps his arms around her and soon they are fast asleep.

* * *

The next morning Bass and Charlie barely make it out of bed in time to meet Connor and Duncan's men at the welcome sign. Bass looks pretty rough. One eye is swollen shut and he has a split brow and a bandage on his cheek. Bruises are scattered over every visible bit of flesh, and his side hurts like a bitch.

None of it matters. In spite of his injuries – Bass can't stop grinning. Charlie is all smiles too as they appear hand in hand.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up." Connor comments with a laugh. He's been talking with Duncan's men and now they are all looking at the latest arrivals curiously.

"You're the dude who kicked the shit out of The Mick?" a big black guy asks, his surprise evident.

"Yeah, I guess I did." Bass answers with a little smile. He turns to Connor, "Pretty sure I had some help though. What did you slip him?"

Connor shrugs, exuding innocence. "No idea what you're talking about, Pops."

Bass shakes his head. The truth is, he doesn't care. He's got Charlie and his kid, and they've got killers and a lot of diamonds. Things are looking up.

Things are looking up indeed.

"So, you ever coming back here? Maybe be Jimmy King again someday?"

"Nah." Bass says, wrapping an arm around his lady, "No reason to come back. Got everything I want."

Charlie beams up at him. "Me too." She says happily.

Connor shakes his head, "Enjoy your honeymoon phase while it lasts."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bass asks him.

Connor chuckles, "I don't care how many diamonds and killers you show up with…when we get to Willoughby and your best friend finds out you're banging his niece…things might be different, that's all."

Charlie and Bass exchange a glance. Connor isn't wrong. Things might be tough for a while.

"Second thoughts?" Bass asks her.

"Not even one." Charlie answers, leaning up on tiptoes to press her lips against his.

* * *

****End** for real this time… Leave a comment if you have a moment.**

**And once again a joint happy birthday to KimberlyHavey &amp; thedarkestdaisy! :)**


End file.
